


Hidden Sky

by Sefiru



Series: Hidden Sky [1]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: 2759, Canon-Typical Crack, Canon-Typical Violence, D/s, Fix-It, Fluff, Harmonising is a big deal, Italian Mafia, Kink Without Sex, Loyalty, M/M, Namimori Mafia Community, OTL!Gokudera, Pre-Slash, Reborn actually teaches, WAFF, because they're 14, boss!Tsuna
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-05-17 01:49:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14822925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sefiru/pseuds/Sefiru
Summary: Tsuna refused to be separated from his soul; he fought the seal on him with everything he had -- with his Dying Will, you might say. Reborn never expected his student to already have control of his Flames. Gokudera never expected to find his Sky. And Namimori never expected their Sky to be so fluffy.A 2759 D/s story, because apparently if I want one I have to write it myself. Why is this so rare? The pairing is perfect for it.





	1. Chapter 1

Hayato Gokudera’s first view of Japan was the glowing signs of pachinko parlors along the train line out of Osaka airport. It was less impressive than he had imagined, and somehow reassuring – that his mother’s homeland wasn’t _too good_ for a bastard half-blood street rat like him. It was only thanks to a job that he even had the chance to be here, which almost made up for said job being annoying as hell. On the plus side, he’d been hand-picked by the World’s Greatest Hitman himself, which was _huge_ ; Reborn paid well, too. On the other hand, here he was, making his own way since the age of eight, Flame Active since the Nitroglycerin Incident when he was ten. Scrambling every day to put food in his mouth and make a name for himself, and command of the entire Vongola Famiglia was being given to some clueless civilian. It pissed him off.

At first glance, Tsunayoshi Sawada lived down to Hayato’s expectations. He slouched at his desk with a spaced-out look and barely reacted to Hayato’s glare. Then he floundered through a volleyball game – only getting asked to play because most of the team was “mysteriously” sick, and only _able_ to play thanks to Reborn’s magic bullets. Even then, Hayato could barely sense a hint of Flame in him. There was no way this fluffy loser could lead the Vongola, even with Reborn’s training. Hayato would be doing him a favour to take him down.

He got Sawada alone, pulled out a stick of dynamite, and Sawada … ran away. “Reborn! You put him up to this, I just know it!”

Now Hayato was really pissed off. He launched a double bomb, and Sawada managed to dodge that too, but now Hayato had him cornered.

“I don’t suppose we can discuss this calmly?”

Damn, if Hayato beat him, he’d have to take responsibility for him as a subordinate, Reborn would insist. There was a simple way out of that, though. “Die!”

He lit a triple bomb. He heard the crack of Reborn’s gun, and …

Flames flared out; bright, pure Sky Flames like nothing Hayato had ever seen. Their warmth wrapped around him and his own Flame rose in response. Sawada’s hand reached out and caught the Dying Will Bullet. “Please don’t.”

Hayato fumbled his dynamite. The sticks clattered to the ground around him, fuses still burning merrily. He knew those fuses to the microsecond; there was no time to put them all out, nor to escape the blast. He was dead meat.

Sawada disagreed. He lunged for the fuses, moving so fast that all Hayato saw was the orange blur of that glorious Sky Flame. Of the Sky he had tried to kill. Who was now saving his _life_ , when no one had ever cared if Hayato lived or died. In moments, Sawada – no, Decimo – was standing still again, pinching out the last fuse with his fingers. His Flames coiled back into him; his lack of presence was not weakness, but _control_. 

Hayato had been wrong. On so many levels. There was only one thing he could think of to do: he fell on his knees, bowed his head, and vowed allegiance on the spot.

“Hmmm?” said Decimo, low and wondering. His hand landed on Hayato’s shoulder, and Sky flames surged into him, filling a place in his heart that he hadn’t known was empty. This was – this was – this couldn’t possibly be what he thought it was! He wasn’t worthy, he had been willing to kill rather than take on a subordinate, he hadn’t _understood_ ; Decimo was a far better person than him. Wide-eyed, Hayato looked up at his Sky. “I offer you my life, Decimo! Command me to do anything!”

… “Will you walk home from school with me?”

*** 

Hayato’s new boss was walking slowly, cautiously even; Hayato thought back through their confrontation, half-panicked that he might have harmed his Sky without noticing. “Decimo, are you injured?”

“Not exactly.” Decimo lowered his voice to a whisper. “My body can’t handle that much Flame yet, so I’m going to be a bigger klutz than usual for a while. Look out in case I trip over nothing.”

“Of course, Decimo.” Hayato glanced back at Reborn, who was walking several meters behind them, staring at the Dying Will Bullet that Decimo had handed back to him. “Why is Reborn acting so surprised?”

“He didn’t know about my Flames yet, either,” Decimo said innocently. “Ne, Gokudera-kun, can you tell me more about yourself? Do you have any brothers or sisters? What hobbies do you have?”

And so, Hayato revealed his past to his Sky; his late mother and half-sister, his piano-playing, his life of wealth and then on the street. Eventually Decimo did trip on his own feet, and Hayato caught him. The soft smile his Sky gave him was worth every hardship he’d ever endured.

*** 

Decimo invited him in for tea, and Hayato accepted with enthusiasm. In his own home, Decimo relaxed the tight control over his Flames, and Hayato basked in their warmth while he listened to his Sky speak. “It must be what Reborn calls Hyper Intuition,” he said. “I’ve always just understood things without having them explained to me.”

Hayato’s pseudo-scientific mind perked up. “Like clairvoyance?”

“Sort of. I don’t get visions of the future or anything, just feelings about what to do when something happens.”

Reborn sipped his coffee. “I see. Is that how you’re able to use your Flames, despite having them sealed?”

“Sealed?” Hayato saw red. A Sky so bright and pure, _sealed?_ “Who dared? They’re fish bait when I get my hands on them!”

“It was my father and Vongola Nono.”

“WHAT?!”

“I don’t know their reasons, but I wasn’t going to put up with it.” Decimo touched Hayato’s arm and urged him to sit back down. “Intuition showed me how to fight the seal. I’ve been cracking it a bit at a time so that my body and control can keep up.” He took a notebook out from under a floorboard, and opened it to a page with a pie chart. Two thirds of the circle were filled in with wedges, each dated; there were two a year, going back to when he’d been six years old.

“Two thirds?” Hayato said faintly. This magnificent, soaring Flame was a mere _two thirds_ of his Sky’s full power? He shivered. It was a miracle that such a strong Sky deigned to notice the likes of him, let alone take him into his confidence. As Mafia ranking went, he was barely fit to polish the Decimo’s shoes.

“Gokudera-kun, are you all right?”

Hayato shook his head frantically. “There is no need for concern, Decimo! I apologise for worrying you!”

“You’re my Storm, of course I’m going to worry about you.” Sky Flames wrapped around him like a blanket, and oh God, _his_ Sky, Hayato was a _Guardian_ now. He ducked his head.

“The truth is, all I wanted when I came here was to prove myself and get accepted into a Famiglia. Anything higher than that was just a distant dream. So this may be above my place, but please allow me the chance to serve as your right hand.” Not just above his place; it was presumptuous as hell, and Hayato wouldn’t have _dared_ if Decimo had had even one other subordinate. He was astounded that Reborn didn’t reprimand him. The hitman had his hat pulled over his eyes, and seemed to be deep in thought.

Decimo smiled at him. “Remember, I’m new to all of this mafia stuff – what does a right hand actually do?”

“Uh …” 

“I guess we’ll learn together, then.”

*** 

Hayato lay awake that night, savoring the feeling of Harmony. He _belonged_ to Decimo now, body and soul, and he would give no less than his best in service. He had been ashamed of his ignorance, but his Sky saw it as opportunity; Hayato was a blank slate, to be trained in whatever Decimo required. He could hardly wait.

His first task was a simple one: when Decimo dismissed him for the evening, he mentioned that he left for school at seven. Hayato was waiting at his gate at ten to. His Sky greeted him with another of those subtle smiles, and it was all Hayato could do not to throw himself at his feet. He restrained himself to a low bow. “Good morning, Decimo.”

His Sky scratched his neck shyly. “Hiee, I’m not used to people bowing to me – especially someone as impressive as you, Gokudera-kun.”

Hayato’s cheeks heated, and he looked aside. Impressive? Him? “Shall I carry your bag for you, Decimo?”

“I’ve got it. You can carry the lunches if you want, though.” There were three, stacked in a string bag. “Um, one of them is for you. I might have mentioned that you live alone, so Mama …”

“That is very generous, Decimo.” He was providing for his subordinate, as a boss should. Hayato took the bag; Decimo was still unsteady on his feet, so he made sure to keep his near arm free to catch him. And it was _awkward_ , asking his Sky questions, but he had to, if he was to learn his duties.

“Decimo, would you rather I clean up my act? I mean, will having a delinquent around reflect badly on you?”

Decimo shook his head. “I’d rather keep things informal for now, so do whatever makes you comfortable.” He giggled. “Let people wonder. If the rumors are juicy enough, Reborn might stay off our backs for a while.” Hayato glanced around reflexively, but the tiny hitman was nowhere to be seen.

*** 

Reborn was busy eating sushi and talking to a Rain; he was only making progress with the former. “It’s unusual for a kid like you to be going around on his own,” said the sushi chef. “You don’t need to worry, though; Namimori is a really safe town.”

Translation: the chef knew exactly who he was, and didn’t want him bringing trouble into town. Frustration was an itch in his throat; nobody could play dumb quite like a hostile Rain. “Actually, I’m in town for work,” he said brightly, and watched the chef’s fingers clench around his knife.

“Haha, and what kind of work does someone your age do?”

Calling himself a hitman wouldn’t get the result he wanted, so: “I’m a home tutor!”

“Maa, students are under so much pressure these days.” The sushi chef … relaxed slightly? Reborn’s scalp prickled. His success tutoring the Cavallone Sky was well known. The Rain had guessed that Reborn was asking about the local Sky, and he wasn’t making an effort to hide information, because he _didn’t know_. Interesting.

Because once he looked for them, there were wisps of enticing Sky Flame all over town, attached to trees and clumps of flowers and the occasional cat. The chef must have noticed them, yet he hadn’t sought their source. Had he recognised the decoys as a wish for concealment? Obeyed the unspoken command? Reborn suspected that if he approached any local Flame user, he would find the same thing. Their own private Omerta, on behalf of a Sky none of them had met.

“I like to prepare my students for the world, before the world comes looking for them,” he said, and laid down his chopsticks. “Thank you for your hospitality, Yamamoto-san.”

“Maa, maa, please come again.” (I’ve got my eye on you.)

No doubt. And while evading a pitchfork-wielding mob would be entertaining, he had a contract to uphold. He left the restaurant and strolled through the streets of Namimori, enjoying the sunshine. A spark curled up his spine that he hadn’t felt in a long time; Tsuna was going to be spectacular when Reborn was through with him. There wouldn’t be any of the beginner exercises that he’d used on Dino – not when Tsuna could _catch the Dying Will Bullet._

Also, he was going to shoot Iemitsu Sawada in the kneecaps, on general principles. The man’s dossier on his own son was the most useless document he had ever seen. Granted, Tsuna had every reason not to reveal he was breaking the seal to the man who had put it on him, but that should not be an obstacle to CEDEF gathering intelligence from an untrained child. Because of that dossier, Reborn had started off with an entirely wrong approach; Tsuna didn’t need to be pushed into connecting with his Flames or their attendant instincts. He hadn’t been confused by Gokudera’s loyalty pledge or pushed him away in discomfort, and instead, the two of them were on their way to a rock-solid Guardian bond. Not that Reborn was jealous. Not in the least.

*** 

By noon, Hayato was seething. When he and Decimo arrived at school together, their classmates had concluded that he had made Decimo his “bitch,” instead of the other way around. Were they _blind?_ Even the teachers called his Sky no-good to his face, and the students made no effort to hide their mockery. Did they not know – no, of course they didn’t. Decimo had concealed his abilities so completely that these civilians had no idea who walked among them. Hayato was almost in tears at the thought of what his Sky had endured because he had no other way to protect himself.

The bell rang, and Hayato was at his Sky’s side in a flash. He glared at the other students, ready to set some of them on fire for their disrespect. Decimo calmly gathered his belongings while he waited for the room to clear. “I felt you staring at me all through class, Gokudera-kun. What’s on your mind?”

Hayato swallowed hard. “May I speak freely, Decimo?”

“Of course. You never need to ask for that.”

Such license, so soon! Hayato carefully laid an arm across his Sky’s shoulders. The smaller boy tensed for a moment, startled, and then relaxed completely. Hayato trembled at this sign of trust, and tightened his grip. “You’re not alone now.”

“Neither are you.” Decimo laid his hand over Hayato’s and squeezed it. ‘Come on, let’s go have lunch.”

Decimo led him to the school roof, which was deserted save for one other student: the bloodthirsty leader of the Disciplinary Committee. Hayato had only been here two days and already knew it was best to avoid him. And he was … waiting for Decimo?

“You are late, Small Animal.”

“I’m sorry, Hibari-senpai,” Decimo said calmly. “Gokudera-kun is with me, if that’s all right.”

Narrowed grey eyes scrutinized him; Hayato glared right back.

“Hn. Don’t crowd.” Hibari turned his back.

“What does he mean by that?” Hayato asked as they sat down. Decimo passed him one lunch box, took another for himself, and set down the third on his other side.

“Don’t raise your voice, don’t make eye contact with him, don’t talk to him unless he talks to you, and don’t come closer to him than a double arm’s length. That’s about it.”

That sounded a lot like Mafia lore for dealing with touchy Clouds … _oh._ On Decimo’s other side, Hibari picked up the third lunch and sat down, much closer than two arm’s lengths, to eat it. Hayato knew better than to stare, but … his Sky had a Cloud almost literally _eating out of his hand._ And these ignorant civilians _dared_ to treat him like dirt. No more! Not if Hayato had anything to say about it.

*** 

Reborn spent the afternoon going over Tsuna’s journal, and it brought a warm glow to his chest. Tsuna had a plan; he scheduled his attacks on the seal for school holidays so that he had time to recover. He chose to focus on his Flames, rather than his schoolwork, which he could catch up later. He did, however, study languages – with intuition telling him that those were best learned while young? Likewise, the seal ruined his balance but not his fine motor skills, so Tsuna practiced calligraphy rather than any sports. That fine control carried over into Flame exercises he’d invented, that he could practice without large flares of power giving him away. Reborn could work with this. 

“You already have a grasp of planning, risk awareness and Flame control,” he told the kid that evening. He held up the journal. “And this proves that you have plenty of resolve. Nono hired me to train you to be a mafia Don, but I’ve changed my mind: I’m going to teach you _everything I know_.”

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Tsuna groaned.

“And since your Intuition is so strong, I’m going to expose you to a wide range of situations so you can take full advantage of it.”

“Aaaand there it is. I’m screwed.” Tsuna flopped over backwards and threw an arm over his face. “Are you at least going to stop shooting at me?”

“Who knows?”

*** 

“Hypothetically speaking,” said the teacher, “a student who scores in the twenties should stop bringing down the class average and give up on education.” He slapped a test paper on Decimo’s desk, a glaring red 26 written at the top. At the back of the room, Hayato scowled. Who did this so-called teacher think he was? Decimo had more important concerns than some trivial science test. Besides, if the battle against his seal took such a toll on his body, what did it do to his mind? Nezu-sensei had _no idea_ of the struggle his Sky faced, and yet he dared to judge his worth! 

The teacher noticed Hayato’s glare, and sneered back at him. “Hypothetically speaking, if there’s a student who doesn’t wear his uniform properly, and leans on the wall like a barbarian instead of using a desk, then naturally he would hang out with loser trash. They’re two of a kind, after all … ”

“Shut up!” Hayato lunged forward, intending to rearrange Nezu’s face. Decimo was far above Hayato’s level, and he would not hear _anyone_ suggest otherwise. Decimo caught his sleeve.

“Ne, Sensei, how did Gokudera-kun score on his test?”

“From such an uncivilized person, one can only expect – ” Nezu found Hayato’s test paper and stopped short. “What? A perfect score? Impossible – you must have cheated somehow!”

*** 

“This school is ridiculous. Why do both of us have detention even after you proved you didn’t cheat?” Decimo threw up his hands in exasperation. “And what kind of detention is digging up a time capsule, anyway? We don’t even know where it is.”

Hayato dropped to the floor. It was disgraceful for his Sky to be punished alongside him; he was a failure as a Guardian. “I’m very sorry for causing you this trouble, Decimo!”

“It’s Nezu-sensei’s fault, not yours, Gokudera-kun. Stand up, let’s get this over with.”

Decimo was a most merciful Boss. Hayato jumped up with shining eyes. “All right! With these, we can dig up the whole schoolyard in minutes!” He brandished a handful of explosives.

“Hey, there’s something I want to try, first. And we’ll only need one of those.”

“Oh? What are you planning, Fluffy-Tsuna?” A nearby fire locker swung open, revealing Reborn in a hidden compartment. “Ciaossu.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s against the fire code,” Decimo said flatly. The hideout had an armchair, coffee machine and several monitors; Hayato’s apartment wasn’t as nice.

“I’m a criminal, remember?” said Reborn. “Now, show me how you’re going to find that time capsule.”

Decimo led them to the schoolyard. “It’s a trick I can do with my flames,” he explained. “When I send them into a solid object, I can sense how it moves. So if there’s a strong vibration, say, from an explosion, I should be able to tell where something is buried.”

Hayato nearly burst at the prospect of helping his Sky carry out his plan. “Just say the word, Decimo. I’ll blow up whatever you want me to!” He looked around; to get the shockwave Decimo wanted, the dynamite would have to be underground. Where could he find a shovel?

“Here.” Reborn held up a scaly green trowel. The two teens blinked at it.

“Shapeshifting lizard. Sure, whatever,” said Decimo. Hayato took Leon and quickly buried a charge. He’d learned his lesson and attached a thirty-second fuse. Meanwhile, Decimo took a position at the opposite corner, and extended his flames across the yard. “Light it up.”

Hayato obeyed, savoring the frisson that went through him at the command. He ran across to his Sky, who gave him a curious look.

“You gave me a direct order,” Hayato said.

“And?”

“I kinda liked it.” Hayato blushed. The fuse burned down, and Hayato put himself between the blast and Decimo, so that not so much as a pebble could touch him.

“Got it.” Decimo pointed at a certain spot. With some more help from the Leon-shovel, they unearthed a steel box.

“This looks a lot older than fifteen years,” said Hayato. 

“Still, we found it. _Now_ you can blow up the schoolyard.”

Hayato dropped Leon, who turned back into a lizard and scurried off. “Really?”

Decimo grinned. “What normal student doesn’t want to blow up their school? If you want to, that is.”

A chance to show off his skills to his Sky? Hayato leaped at it. “Check this out, Decimo!” he laid out a string of bombs with staggered fuses; they went off in a wave, from one side of the school yard to the other. Decimo laughed with delight, and Hayato preened. They dashed away to the school roof where Decimo flopped down on a concrete block, still giggling. Seeing his Sky so full of joy – at _his_ actions – Hayato couldn’t contain himself. He threw himself at Decimo’s feet, hugged his ankles, and nuzzled his head into Decimo’s lap. 

Gentle fingers combed through his hair, and Hayato just about _melted._ A tiny noise escaped his throat. Decimo was good to him, far better than he deserved. Anything, he had promised, and God help him, it didn’t seem like _enough._ Yet here he was, in his Sky’s arms, and just a little, he was starting to believe it would last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As someone with a background in education, the whole trope of torture/training makes my head hurt. As such, in this fic Reborn is going to use teaching methods that have specific objectives and actually work ... which is not to say that he's going to stop being a colossal troll.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I tried to get into Takeshi's POV, I did not expect this to happen. I kind of like it though.

Tsuna’s routine had changed since Reborn showed up on his doorstep. He now got up half an hour before breakfast and went for a run, with Reborn clinging to his back while wearing a Yoda costume. (His tutor had the weirdest sense of humor.) The distance they ran got longer each day as the effects of Flame overload faded.

Every time he took a crack at the seal, he was a little less clumsy once he recovered. A little less drowsy and distracted – the seal felt like wearing too-small shoes, all the time – and the overload wore off a little faster. He’d never thought much about what he would do once the seal was gone; he just wanted to be _whole_ again. And then Reborn told him that there was a career waiting for him. In the Mafia.

Seriously?

Though really, it wasn’t that important compared to his Elements. He had hoped, someday when his no-good phase was over, to have friends, and Elements were so much more than that. True, he only had one so far; in the week since Tsuna had met him, Gokudera had gone from alarming to disconcerting to a steady presence in his life. If it was a bit unusual that Gokudera liked taking orders and grovelled when he was happy, well, Tsuna wasn’t exactly normal either. He felt _safe_ around Gokudera – while the bomber looked and acted like a thug, Tsuna’s well-being was always the first thing on his mind – and Tsuna hadn’t really felt safe since he was five years old.

It hadn’t taken long for Nana to start inviting Gokudera in for breakfast. When Tsuna and Reborn finished their run, Gokudera had tea and coffee waiting for them. And after that, they walked to school together.

“Are you thinking of joining any clubs?” Tsuna asked.

“I haven’t thought about it yet, Decimo,” Gokudera answered. “You’re in the calligraphy club, right?”

“Yeah.” It was one of the few club activities he could actually do well at, and luckily, he enjoyed it. “I’ve thought about going into graphic design. I still might; I’m not about to let this Mafia business take over my whole life.”

Gokudera tilted his head as he thought about that. That was another thing Tsuna liked about his Storm: he thought about what Tsuna said. (Which was more that Nana managed, most days.) And he’d caught on quickly that Tsuna would rather hear honest answers than flattering ones.

“It would be nice to play the piano again,” he said eventually.

Thus, after classes Tsuna led Gokudera to the music club room. The club president eyed them suspiciously. “Piano? You?”

“Yeah, what about it? It’s been a while since I could practice, though.”

“Uh-huh, sure. Well, sit down and see how much you remember.” He started by playing a scale, cautiously at first, and then muscle memory kicked in and he moved on to a classical piece which Tsuna recognised but didn’t know the name of. The other musicians stopped what they were doing to listen. Gokudera ended with a flourish and called, “Oi, is there any sheet music in here?”

There was a general scramble to collect whatever sheet music was to be had.

“Gokudera-kun, you know where to find me when you’re done, right?” said Tsuna.

“Yeah, yeah,” Gokudera answered distractedly, leafing through the papers he’d been given. Tsuna smiled to himself and slipped out the door. He wasn’t going to let the Mafia be Gokudera’s whole life, either.

*** 

Ask anyone about Takeshi Yamamoto and they’ll say that baseball is his be-all, his end-all, the whole ball game. Takeshi himself would say the same but that is avoiding the question. Because beyond the question is a void and it is growing. His peers make a place for him and he flows into it, twists and turns himself, shows them what they want to see. But who is he when no one’s looking?

He’s cutting off pieces of himself to fit their mold. Though he pours his heart into baseball, the game that’s just a game is too small to hold him. It’s why he watches the one who’s so unlike him. One who’s so unliked; their class makes no room for Sawada-kun. They call him no-good – Takeshi never did, never could – and he does not heed them. Does not want them to see that slowly he’s improving. Sawada’s goal is far beyond them and he never stops moving. 

So Takeshi watches him and he wonders. He wonders. Because when he looks further – looks a little sideways – so that the colors of the world shift and become something else – Sawada shines. What he hides is not an empty space; he’s overflowing. Takeshi needs to know, has to dare:

“Sawada-kun, can I ask you something?”

“Hiee? Sure, Yamamoto-kun, what’s on your mind?”

“I’ve noticed you’re much more motivated recently.” Or else he’s just stopped hiding. “Could you give me some advice?”

“On staying motivated?” Brown eyes slide sideways, catching the light, glinting orange. “I don’t know if this is useful, but I decided that I don’t have to be what everyone says I am.” Warmth surrounds him like summer sunlight; Takeshi doesn’t know why, but he feels lighter.

*** 

The next time Tsuna saw Yamamoto, the baseball player had his arm in a sling. Tsuna had to wonder if his words had been helpful – he was fourteen, that was nowhere near old enough to be giving life advice. He knew the other boy was Flame Active, and had been for about a year now, but he’d been too shy to approach him before. And someone as popular as Yamamoto hadn’t had any reason to talk to Tsuna. Intuition had told him to say _something_ , so he hoped Yamamoto was feeling all right.

The bell rang for the end of classes. “I’ll meet you after music practice, Decimo?” said Gokudera.

One of their classmates piped up, “You know, you’re supposed to pronounce it Dame-Tsuna.”

“I know what I’m saying, asshole!”

Tsuna snorted under his breath. Hadn’t they noticed what Gokudera thought of him? He wasn’t exactly hiding it. “I’ll be working on my homework until then, Gokudera-kun.” On days when the calligraphy club didn’t meet, Tsuna spent the club period in the Disciplinary Committee room, at Hibari’s insistence (meaning that if he tried to leave, Hibari would smack him with a tonfa and haul him back). Today, though, he was reading a book in Italian with help from his Hyper Intuition, and it was the _weirdest_ feeling to understand each word the moment after he read it aloud.

Shouting from outside pulled him from his reading. _“Look, there’s someone on the roof’s edge! … Is he going to jump? … It’s Yamamoto-kun … What is he thinking? … Just because he hurt his arm?”_

Tsuna jumped up. This had better not be happening because of what he’d said to Yamamoto. He ran to the school roof and spotted the baseball player right away. He didn’t look like he was planning to jump; he was sitting at the edge with his feet dangling over, leaning back on his good hand and watching the clouds. Tsuna sat down beside him. “Is this a good spot for thinking?”

“Maa, I’ve caused a commotion, haven’t I?”

“Just a bit.” Tsuna fidgeted. “Did it bother you? What I said yesterday?”

Yamamoto hummed a negative. “It was good to hear. Only, I don’t know who I am aside from baseball.”

“I’m still working on that part, too,” Tsuna admitted. Sitting this close, he could feel the other boy’s Rain Flames shimmer. “Do you want to eat lunch with us tomorrow?”

Yamamoto smiled, a real smile so unlike his artificial ones. “I’d like that.” He pulled his feet in and stood up; unused to his injured arm, he overbalanced and slipped off the edge.

Tsuna dove after him without a second thought, calling up his Flames. He caught Yamamoto – and apparently he could fly, that would have been nice to know five seconds sooner – and then they settled gently to the ground. 

Without conscious direction, Tsuna’s Flames reached out, offering; Yamamoto’s Flames reached back. For the second time, he felt a moment of wordless, formless _understanding_ as an Element harmonized with him. 

His Rain stared at him, astonished. “Did you feel that?”

“ _I_ felt that,” said Gokudera, striding out of the school doors. “Dio santo, I leave you alone for five minutes! You’re going to give me a heart attack, Decimo! And who the hell is this idiot?” He hustled them around a corner and out of sight of the gawking students.

Yamamoto’s stare had shifted from surprise to realisation. “You - you’re the Hidden Sky,” he breathed.

“So, you already know what’s going on in this town.” Reborn appeared on a windowsill beside them, his fedora tilted back jauntily. “Good work, Fluffy-Tsuna. You’ve made a good choice for your Rain Guardian.”

“Reborn! This wasn’t some kind of – of recruiting ploy!” Tsuna proceeded to ignore his exasperating tutor in favour of Yamamoto’s last statement.

“I’m the what now, Yamamoto-kun?”

“My dad – he’s a Rain, too – he said there was a Sky nearby but that they wanted to stay hidden, so I shouldn’t go looking. Haha, and you were right in front of me the whole time!”

Tsuna wasn’t surprised that other Flame Actives knew he was around – his decoys were hard to miss – but he was amazed that some of them had decided to respect his privacy. He knew that Sky Flames were like catnip to other types, so was this some Mafia-culture thing? Yamamoto continued, “Is Gokudera-kun a Guardian too?”

“Of course! I’m the Decimo’s right-hand man!”

“Ok, then I’ll be the left-hand man,” Yamamoto said brightly. Gokudera sneered.

“Do you even know what that means, baseball idiot?” 

Yamamoto just laughed. “Ne, can I introduce you to my father? He’s been worried about me, you know.” And would want to know who his son had harmonized with. Maybe – maybe it was time to stop hiding so much. “I’d like that, Yamamoto-kun.”

“Maa, maa, call me Takeshi!”

“You can call me Tsuna, then.” Tsuna turned to his Storm. ‘Gokudera-kun, you can use my first name too, you know.”

Gokudera blushed. “I couldn’t possibly address Decimo so familiarly … but, please call me Hayato if you wish.”

***

Yamamoto Tsuyoshi has many reasons to worry about his son. The loss of his mother is the least of them; it was years ago, and Takeshi barely remembers her. Foremost are his Flames, strong and pure even at his young age. If Takeshi ever leaves Namimori, he’ll be recruited at once; it’s not the life Tsuyoshi wants for his son, yet it may be inevitable. Takeshi doesn’t quite fit with the civilians, and it’s not just his Flames that are at fault. Tsuyoshi has enough experience as a hitman to know what he sees in his son: _hitokiri wa hitokiri,_ as the saying goes. Although he’s never so much as touched a weapon, Takeshi is a natural-born killer.

As long as he is focused on baseball, Tsuyoshi can breathe easy. When Takeshi comes home with his arm in a sling, the blankness of his smile is terrifying. Tsuyoshi spends the next day wondering if his son will come home at all.

He does, and not alone either. That is both a relief and not, because one of Takeshi’s companions is Smokin’ Bomb Hayato, who has been the talk of the Flame Active community; Namimori is more for the down-and-out than the up-and-coming. The third boy is one of Takeshi’s classmates, Tsuna-something. What has his son gotten himself into?

“Dad, I’ve got something to tell you,” Takeshi says, and Tsuyoshi’s heart freezes in his chest. Takeshi lays a gentle hand on Tsuna’s shoulder. “This is Sawada Tsunayoshi. My Sky.”

“Hi.” The smaller boy’s eyes briefly glow orange. For a long moment, Tsuyoshi’s entire world stands still. The Hidden Sky, Inten-sama as whispered rumors call him, is standing in front of him and he’s young, so young. And the way he’s standing, curled in on himself, like a recruit that’s come in from the cold. He’s seen it many times before, but not from a Sky. Never from a Sky, and someone is going to pay in blood for it. He is shy and wary and he’s still trusting Tsuyoshi with his secret because he’s Takeshi’s father. “Call me Tsuna,” he says.

Civilian-raised, uncomfortable with the respect that’s his due. Tsuyoshi holds back his protests and answers, “It’s good to meet you, Tsuna-kun. Thank you for taking care of my son.” It’s trite and inadequate and by rights he should be laying his sword at Tsuna’s feet. He offers tea instead. “Is it just the three of you?”

“So far,” says Tsuna-sama. “This is Gokudera Hayato, my Storm and Right Hand.” At that introduction, Smokin’ Bomb looks like a puppy that just got a biscuit. “Plus, I’m sure my tutor is around somewhere.”

His tutor, is it? Tsuyoshi extends a wisp of his Flames and finds a tiny conflagration of Sun on his roof. Reborn gives him a slight, and slightly amused, nudge back; he is standing watch. To his guests, Tsuyoshi says, “This room is as secure as I can make it, so please, make yourselves comfortable.”

And then Tsuna-sama demonstrates how good his Flame control is, by letting it go. Sky Flames bathe the room, warm and familiar and so much stronger than his decoys. Tsuyoshi closes his eyes for a moment and lets them wash over him. “I think this calls for a bit of celebration. What kind of sushi do each of you like?”

Tsuna-sama blinks at him. “I – I don’t want to be a bother …”

“Nonsense! Takeshi’s found his Sky, and you’ve found a Guardian. Or two; did you and Gokudera-kun do anything to mark the occasion?”

“To stand at Decimo’s side is celebration enough for me!” the Storm declares; Tsuna-sama blushes (Tsuyoshi tucks that title away for later consideration).

“Reborn made me eat red beans and rice,” Tsuna-sama grumbles.

Takeshi laughs. “Isn’t that for girls?”

“I’d say it’s because he’s foreign, but I feel like he knows exactly what he’s doing. I gave him some baby food the next day.”

Tsuyoshi holds back a snicker. “So, sushi?”

“Um, I like crab, I guess.”

“Egg, please!”

“I’m in the mood for eel,” Takeshi adds. Tsuyoshi’s own choice is tuna belly, because it is his favourite and because it is the best he has; he would not offer less to his son’s Sky. (The Sky to all of Namimori.) He puts together platters of sushi, along with bowls of miso soup, burdock salad and pickles. A portion of each goes into a bento box which he places on the edge of the roof; he remembers how much lookout duty sucks.

When he returns to the back room with the meal, the three boys are chattering about the things Reborn has shot and wondering where he keeps his ammunition. Once they start eating, Tsuna-sama says, “Ne, Yamamoto-san, is it true that a lot of people know there’s a Sky in town, but they aren’t trying to find me?”

“Maa, Namimori is a popular place for Flame Actives to retire to. Your decoys were a clear sign that you didn’t want to be found, and none of us would go against a Sky’s wishes – especially on your home ground.”

Tsuna-sama’s eyes are wide with amazement. “All that, even though they haven’t met me?” 

Tsuyoshi nods. “Maybe your tutor has mentioned the respect that Sky Flames get in our community. I can promise that those of us who meet you will continue to keep your secrets.” And if one of those secrets happens to be just who left a Sky child out in the cold, well, Tsuyoshi still has blades besides his kitchen knives. He’ll make sure they never bother Namimori’s Sky again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In some parts of Japan, girls eat red beans and rice when they get their first period ... it;s also eaten at other kinds of celebrations, so Reborn isn't (just) being a dick.


	3. Chapter 3

Tsuyoshi calls a staff meeting first thing in the morning. He has two assistants, both ex-hitmen like himself: a Sun and a Rain. They’re in for a surprise.

“Come into the back room, please.” Sky flames linger in the space, warm and pure and impossible to miss. 

“He was here,” breathes Taro. “You met him.”

“I did. Sit down, I will tell you what I may.” Easier said than done with an excited Sun; Shiro is bouncing in place.

“What’s he like? Were our guesses close?”

“Not at all.” Tsuyoshi takes a breath. “He’s young, very young, and civilian-raised. He was here because Takeshi harmonised with him.” They are still for a moment as that sinks in.

Taro counts on his fingers. “If they’re the same age, Inten-sama has been Flame Active since …”

“Since he was five years old, he says,” Tsuyoshi confirms. The Flame decoys have been appearing since Tsuna-sama was six; which makes his strength and control all the more astonishing. “He’s been hiding himself by instinct; he’s shy. And … fluffy.”

“Fluffy?” Taro repeats incredulously. Tsuyoshi just smiles; they’ll see for themselves soon enough.

“There’s more. Inten-sama has taken Smokin’Bomb Hayato as his Storm, and I confirmed that Reborn is tutoring him. So neither of them are threats.” Tsuyoshi is just as glad not to have to get rid of the World’s Greatest Hitman; he would be more of a challenge than the usual assassins who sneak into town now and then. Namimori is a peaceful town, and certain of its residents make sure it stays that way.

“Hang on,” says Shiro, “If Inten-sama has a tutor – and you said, civilian-raised, not born – does he have a Family somewhere? Where the hell have they been?”

“I didn’t hear anything directly, but I have suspicions.” Suspicions enough to make his hands itch for his swords, even though bloodshed won’t right this wrong. Tsuna-sama’s Famiglia doesn’t deserve him, yet they think they can dictate to him. Tsuyoshi sighs, and reminds himself that it’s above his pay grade. “In any case, they are not here, and we are. Inten-sama was surprised at having community support; he gave me this to post in the restaurant.” 

He takes out a large sheet of paper, scribed with rows of characters in Tsuna-sama’s own hand. The letter is a simple one: “Everyone, thank you for your discretion. I hope to meet more of you in the future. – Namimori’s Hidden Sky.” Sky Flames are infused in the ink, and only the ink; it’s an impressive display of control. 

Shiro’s eyes are suspiciously bright as he reads it. “Just like that?” he whispers.

Tsuyoshi understands his shock. Skies are different from other bosses; it’s one thing to be taught that, another to meet one and discover what that means. Tsuna-sama doesn’t brag or flaunt his power; he waves aside the formalities of rank. He doesn’t _need_ them.

“He has adopted our name,” Tsuyoshi says, and if his voice is rough, well, he is not unaffected himself. Inten-sama has taken them in his hands; they are no longer mere guests in his territory. They have a _Sky_. “Once I put this up, we’ll likely be asked to pass on messages. I’m going to get a lock box to put by the register. TakeSushi will be, in a way, representing Inten-sama, so I expect professional behaviour from both of you.”

*** 

Hayato lay sprawled on the school roof after lunch, watching Decimo – watching Tsuna-sama practice his calligraphy. He hadn’t worked up the nerve to call his Sky by name aloud, but maybe, if he got used to doing so in his mind, he could work up to it. It was the first request from Tsuna-sama that he had fallen short of, and he had to be _better_ than that.

The baseball idiot had no problems with it; no, his problems were completely different. Like his habit of pretending not to notice things, or that _obnoxious_ fake smile – Tsuna-sama had put his foot down on that, thank God. Takeshi was not quite civilian-raised, so if he’d just relax enough to let his _edge_ show, he might even make a decent Left Hand. Now Hayato just had to remember that this was _not a competition_ , that Takeshi had his own place in Tsuna-sama’s family, and maybe he could look at the idiot without wanting to punch his face in. 

It helped to see Tsuna-sama’s quiet _joy_ over both of them. His Sky was drawing a six-petalled flower on a piece of card. He colored the center in orange, then handed the card to Hayato along with a red pencil. Tsuna-sama could be subtle with his instructions, and this one was clear; Hayato filled in a petal with his flame color. Tsuna-sama passed a blue pencil to Takeshi, who did the same. Tsuna-sama smiled – and Hayato could never _hate_ someone who made his Sky smile, no matter how much he ranted at the baseball fool – as he reached for the card.

Hibari snatched it out of his hand, along with the pencil case. Hayato lunged to his feet. Cloud or not, Hibari _had no right_ to act with such disrespect. Hibari gave him a flat look, and took out a violet pencil. He colored in a petal and held the drawing out, his hand wreathed in Flames.

“If you’re sure.” Tsuna-sama sent out his own Flames; a third Guardian bond rippled into place, cold and sharp with an undertone of blood. Once again Hayato was awestruck that his Sky had drawn in such a powerful Cloud.

“Magnificent, Decimo! Your Famiglia grows greater with every passing day!”

“Loud.” Hibari smacked him with a tonfa, but Hayato didn’t care. Not when Tsuna-sama turned his smile on him and said firmly,

“ _Our_ famiglia.” 

Tears of joy filled Hayato’s eyes. “Decimo …”

“Welcome aboard, Hibari-kun,” chirped Takeshi, then scampered away as Hibari chased him around the roof. Hayato could see it now; not rivals, but family, they to him and he to them, and all to their Sky.

*** 

Hayato leaned his chin on his hand as he studied the game board in front of him. It was a training exercise which Reborn had set up for Tsuna-sama, with Hayato and the baseball fool as additional players.

“Why Parchesi, though?” asked his Sky. “Isn’t chess more traditional?”

“Figuring out the point of the training is also part of the training,” Reborn said sagely.

Hayato hadn’t even thought about that. He was content and _warm_ as only his Sky’s Flames could make him; on top of that, as the weather grew colder, Tsuna-sama had set up a kotatsu in his living room. Each of them was nestled under one side of it with the game in the center. Hibari was curled up under Reborn’s side, napping; they each had a cup of spiced tea, and their feet were tangled together under the table. Hayato’s attention was on Tsuna-sama: on the little flash of aggression when he sent a piece back to the start, or the calculating look as he decided between two possible moves. It was _mesmerizing_.

Tsuna-sama considered Reborn’s comment. “I guess, there’s more than two sides, so it’s more like a lot of famiglias competing with each other.”

“That’s one reason.” Reborn rolled his die and moved one of his pieces. “How many more can you think of?”

“Um, each player has less pieces, and you have to get all the pieces to the goal to win, so each piece is more valuable?”

“Good – a proper Don values everyone in his family. What else?”

“What do you guys think?”

Hayato had played chess before, and he used to think Parchesi was a simplistic game, until he sat down to play it. “The way the board is laid out, if you send pieces back to the start, they’re in place to ambush you when you pass their starting line. So even if it looks like one player is ahead, another player might still win.”

“And being too ruthless isn’t the best way to play,” Tsuna-sama added.

“Sometimes you have to make a move, even if all the choices are bad,” added Takeshi. He was in such a situation, having rolled a 2. He sighed and moved the piece that would cost him the least progress if captured.

Tsuna-sama continued, “There’s no dice in chess, either. In this game, you have to think about what _might_ happen and how likely it is.” He rolled, and got a 6. “Ha!” Under the rules they were using, that counted for twelve spaces and another roll – but if he rolled three sixes in one turn, all of his pieces would go back to the start.

“Risk management,” said Reborn, “is at the heart of this game.” Tsuna-sama’s second roll was a four. He had just picked up his playing piece when the living room window burst inward.

Hayato lunged to shield his Sky with his body. Hibari woke up with a snarl. Sky Flames flashed out and formed a barrier between the glass and the table’s occupants. “Hayato-kun, are you hurt?”

“I’m not, but someone’s about to be.” Whoever dared to attack his Sky in his own home was going to be a red smear on the _wall_ when he was through with them. Takeshi’s face was, for once, utterly serious and promised thinly sliced pain for the intruder.

Standing on the windowsill was a little boy in a cow-print outfit and an afro. He wilted for a moment under the glares of three Guardians and the World’s Greatest Hitman, but then he raised his trembling chin.

“Look out, Reborn! The Great Lambo-sama has come to take your life!”

“No killing in the house,” Tsuna-sama said firmly. He picked up ‘Lambo-sama’, who went still when the Sky Flames touched him, and carried him over to the entryway. “Now put your shoes away and then you can have hot chocolate.” Under his breath he muttered, “And I’ll find the dustpan.”

“I’ve got it,” Hayato called. _His_ Sky was above such menial labor! And since there wasn’t any point in beating up a little kid, he took out his temper on the shards of glass, destroying them one by one with his Flames. It was as good as bubble wrap. Meanwhile, Hibari set one of the larger glass fragments back in the window frame; then he used his Cloud Flame to expand it into a full pane. Takeshi laughed and poured fresh tea. Reborn … had fallen asleep. 

“Everybody’s mad at me because I’m bad,” Lambo was saying. 

“I don’t think you’re bad,”said Tsuna-sama. He was going to adopt the little nuisance, Hayato just knew it. Just like he’d taken in a certain bastard street rat… “I’m upset because you broke things, that’s all.”

“What about them?” Lambo quavered.

“Hayato and Takeshi are upset because the glass might have hurt someone.” Namely _him_ , their Sky. “And Kyoya is upset that you woke him up.” Tsuna-sama then coached the cow boy through apologising to each of them. Hayato was distracted from his anger by seeing his Sky acting with such authority. “Now, Lambo, where are you from? You speak Japanese very well. How did you get to Namimori?”

Lambo sniffled into his cocoa. “Lambo’s famiglia told Lambo to kill Reborn and not to come back until he did.”

_Utter fury_ surged across the Guardian bond; Tsuna-sama’s eyes glowed orange. He took a deep breath – another – and said, “You can stay here as long as you like, Lambo-kun.”

“Really? You mean it?”

“Mm-hmm. Like I said, though, no killing in the house. It’s too messy.” Unspoken was his resolve that Lambo would not bloody his hands at all, and the Famiglia that had thrown him out would _get theirs_ – not soon, not until the Decimo was ready to crush them under his fist. And Hayato would be there to witness it.

“Che, as if Lucky Luke here stands a chance,” he said.

“I’m not Luke, I’m Lambo!”

“You’re still a cowboy.”

“…I don’t get it,” said Tsuna-sama.

“It’s a comic book, Decimo; it’s really great, I’ll see if I can get you some copies.”

“Maa, does the kid play Parchesi?” asked Takeshi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've seen a lot of fics state that Skies are treated "like Royalty," but don't show what that would actually be. Most end up showing Skies being treated like celebrities, and that is not quite the same thing.
> 
> There are many different versions of rules for Parchesi; the ones partly described here are the ones my family uses. 
> 
> _Lucky Luke_ is a Belgian comic book set in the Wild West. It's available in many languages including English, and I highly recommend it.


	4. Chapter 4

“Little kid assassins are a thing in the Mafia, aren’t they.” Tsuna-sama was holding a young girl in Chinese clothing, and he was _absolutely furious_ ; his eyes were glowing orange and the corners of his jacket rippled in a breeze that wasn’t there. 

Hayato wanted nothing more than to throw himself at his Sky’s feet and _beg_ to destroy whatever Tsuna-sama wished him to. But that was not what Tsuna-sama needed from him right now. It took everything he had to face his Sky squarely and say, “It happens, though it’s not common.”

“I won’t stand for it.” His voice was quiet, almost a whisper, yet it hung in the air between them. Tsuna-sama, the Hidden Sky, Vongola Decimo, had spoken his will. He wasn’t looking at Hayato, and Hayato was glad of it, otherwise he _would_ be on his knees in the street.

Tsuna-sama brought I-pin to his mother to look after; Nana was happy to have another child in the house. She didn’t seem to notice the glow that lingered in her son’s eyes. He left the house again, stumbling from Flame overload, and Hayato was at his elbow to catch him. “Decimo, what would you have of me?”

His Sky looked _through_ him for a moment. “Learn,” he said simply. “We all need to learn as much as we can. Reborn?”

The tiny tutor stepped out of a bush ahead of them. “Ciaossu.”

“Do your worst. I’m ready for it.”

Reborn pulled his fedora over his eyes. “We’ll see about that.” For a moment, his own Flame flared menacingly. “I’ve found a training area for you to use. Come with me.”

He led them toward the outskirts of Namimori; Tsuna-sama could barely go a block between stumbles, yet his eyes were fixed on the hitman’s back while he clung to Hayato’s arm for stability. Hayato looked down at his Sky’s fluffy hair and reflected that this was his _life_ now. Three months ago he had thought that he wanted to see a Boss with power. But Tsuna-sama trusted him with his moments of weakness, and that held him more tightly than any show of strength.

They crossed paths with a classmate – the bald one, Mochida or something – who jeered at them, “Look at you losers! Why are you hanging out with a no-good who can’t even walk right?”

“Shut your face,” Hayato said flatly. He barely spared the asshole a glance. 

There was a pained grunt, and the sound of a body hitting a wall. Takeshi fell into step at Tsuna-sama’s other side, guarding his flank, as he should. “Ahaha, did I miss anything interesting?”

*** 

The “training area” Reborn brought them to was unimpressive; rusty, overgrown and half ruined.

“I know this place!” Tsuna-sama exclaimed. “Kokuyo Land. It was a shopping mall until it got damaged in a landslide and abandoned.”

“That’s right,” said Reborn. “Your first assignment is to scout the area and turn it into a usable base. You’ll have access to one of the Vongola accounts to buy materials, but the planning is up to you.” Reborn hopped onto Tsuna-sama’s head, putting him at eye level with Hayato. He cocked his Leon-gun. “And your suggestions had better not be boring.”

“If you want more entertainment,” said Tsuna-sama, “You could give Ryohei-kun some pointers. He’s a Sun, too, and he’s always up for some extreme training.”

On closer inspection, the location had some appeal. There was a wide range of terrain, the buildings were in good enough shape to use as shelter, and above all, it was _private_. His Sky felt comfortable enough to loosen his grip on his Flames, which thus far he did only in his own or Takeshi’s home. (He hadn’t yet visited Hayato’s flat because it was a dump and not worthy of his presence.) Hayato would _never_ get tired of this feeling. Tsuna-sama had set aside his rage; he was used to playing the long game. Now his flames were gentle; they embraced his Guardians with warmth and feelings of wellness. _You’re OK, we’re OK, it’s going to be OK_. Hayato wanted to curl up at Tsuna-sama’s feet and bask in it.

They came to a Japanese-style café, tatami-mat booths visible through dusty windows, and Tsuna-sama looked in curiously. “Hayato-kun, can you get the door open?”

“Of course, Decimo.” His Flames made short work of the lock, and they went inside.

“This place is in good shape,” said Takeshi. He sauntered into the kitchen area and started poking around, while Tsuna-sama sat in one of the booths. Hayato stopped holding back and settled on the floor, beside the edge of the tatami, and leaned his head on his Sky’s knee. Tsuna-sama ran his fingers through Hayato’s hair.

“It’s not easy for you, is it, acting normal around me?”

Hayato squirmed a little with happiness. His Sky paid attention; his Sky _understood_. “I like that it’s not easy,” he replied. “I like that I can put effort into being yours.” Tsuna-sama’s hand stilled, and Hayato glanced upward; Tsuna-sama was blushing. Hayato ran through what he’d said, and blushed himself. “I’m sorry, Decimo! I – ”

“No, it’s all right.” Tsuna-sama’s fingers found the spot behind his ear that made him _melt._ For a little while, Hayato lost himself in the sheer bliss of his Sky’s hand on him.

“Hey, the water’s still on!” Takeshi called out.

“That’s great! I should start writing stuff down,” said Tsuna-sama, but his hand didn’t leave Hayato’s hair.

*** 

“Hieee! Reborn, why is there a snake in my school bag?” Tsuna held the bag at arm’s length. Where did his tutor even get a snake? It wasn’t Leon in disguise, because the chameleon was sitting on Reborn’s hat.

“You used money from the training account to buy I-pin’s glasses, Fluffy-Tsuna.”

Tsuna shrugged; I-pin needed those glasses, and his allowance wouldn’t cover them. “You said the account was for ‘the enhancement of my Famiglia.’”

“Acceptable use of a loophole,” Reborn declared. “But you also need to learn how to deal with attacks by venomous animals.”

Great. “Is it actually venomous?”

“Find out for yourself, Fluffy-Tsuna.”

“I’ll pass, thanks.” Now he knew why Reborn had given him a guidebook on Reptiles of the World; it was in his bag, under the snake. “Weren’t you saying the other day that a Boss has to delegate? You’re the one who speaks Reptile; you handle it.”

“I’m a freelancer, Fluffy-Tsuna, and my services don’t come cheap.” Reborn held out his hand as if expecting a bundle of cash. Fat chance; he was already getting free room and board on top of the Vongola Don’s pay. So, snake in Tsuna’s school bag. What did snakes like? Heat? He went up to the attic and found an old flowerpot. He put some newspaper in the bottom, then soaked it with his Flames until it was nice and warm. Then he set down the pot with its opening facing his bag; sure enough, the snake slithered from one to the other. He turned the pot upright and tied a scrap of mosquito netting over it.

Tsuna grabbed his school bag and left before his tutor could do anything else. “Good morning, Hayato-kun! Guess what Reborn did this time!”

***

Reborn walked into TakeSushi with a bounce in his step. His fluffy student was making great progress already. He had three Guardians, including a Cloud! He was making effective plans to turn the ruined Kokuyo Land into a ‘secret base,’ with minimal prompting from Reborn. He had demonstrated a pragmatic streak in problem-solving (and was now the proud owner of a black ratsnake). And, of course, he was reaching out to the local Flame Active community. There was his letter tacked to the restaurant’s wall, along with a drawing of a flower with three petals colored in.

Reborn had timed his visit to have the place to himself; he hopped onto a stool and rapped his knuckles on the counter to get the chef’s attention.

The elder Yamamoto greeted him with a ‘smile’ that could slice titanium. “Reborn-san! I’ve been wondering if you would come by again.”

“Oh? Did you want to talk to me about something?”

“Ah, well, I have a responsibility to the local youth.” Tsuyoshi glanced at the letter on the wall.

“You’re his man,” Reborn said. 

“To my dying breath.” For a moment, Yamamoto was entirely serious. “I’m not impressed with Vongola Nono at the moment.”

“Neither am I.” A dark lump of disgust settled in his gut. He knew as well as anyone how ruthless Timoteo could be; that was business as usual in the Mafia. To harm a child, though – a child of his own Famiglia – a _Sky_ child – was crossing a line.

Yamamoto wasn’t done. “He’s got some nerve; first he shoved aside Tsuna-sama like he’s unwanted furniture, and now he wants to dust him off and name him heir like it’s some kind of favour.”

Reborn smirked, and tilted down his fedora. “I know. I look forward to seeing my student take it all away from him.”

Yamamoto’s eyebrows went up. “Well, when you put it that way …” There was revenge, and then there was seeing someone’s own plan backfire on them. It was delicious. “Can I get you anything, Reborn-san?”

“Tea and kappamaki.” Reborn allowed his posture to relax. “What’s your impression of Gokudera as Right hand?”

The chef hummed thoughtfully. “Going by his reputation alone, I’d have said he’s a terrible choice. Now that I’ve met him, though – he’s willing to learn, and willing to be whatever Tsuna-sama needs him to be. That boy hasn’t achieved a thousandth of his potential yet.”

“And your son as Left Hand?”

“It’s painful to say, but he’ll excel at it.” He plated Reborn’s order and set it in front of him. “I know you see it in him too. This is the best place for him; he’ll kill at his Sky’s orders, and not for whoever can pay his fee.”

Lucky brat. “Fluffy-Tsuna prefers negotiation to violence; he won’t order death lightly. What’s been the response to my student’s message?”

Yamamoto smiled again, only slightly less edged. “He’s Namimori’s Sky. What do you think?”

*** 

Tsuna was being watched. That wasn’t unusual; Hibari watched him, Reborn watched him, Hayato and Takeshi watched him. Intuition said this watcher wasn’t any of them, but wasn’t hostile either. Thus, he ignored them in favour of his companions. “Which cake do you want, Lambo?”

“That one!” Lambo pointed at the glass case in front of them. The cake he’d chosen had three different kinds of chocolate on it.

“How about you, I-pin?”

“This, please.” She pointed to a chestnut tart; her Japanese was improving fast, and her new glasses were helping her settle in, too.

Tsuna picked a pumpkin muffin for himself and lemon-poppyseed for Hayato, who was lurking by the door. The shopkeeper smiled at the kids as she rang up their orders. Tsuna had picked this bakery because of her; she was middle-aged, a weak Sun, and walked with a limp. She didn’t know who Tsuna was yet; he might be more comfortable with showing his Flames, but he wasn’t going to use them just to impress people. Despite that, she was one of _his_ , and the least he could do in return was to patronise her shop. “Thank you, Moko-san.”

“You’re quite welcome, young man!”

Tsuna led his little group back onto the street, boxes of pastry in hand. There was a small park a few blocks away, where they could eat and Lambo and I-pin could play. His sense of being watched increased, and … there was a girl coming towards them. About Tsuna’s age, in the uniform of Midori girls’ school.

“Hahi, how cute!” she said as she reached them. “I’m Haru, who are these two?”

“I’m Lucky Lambo, the quickest draw in the West!” Lambo had found a green bandana and a cowboy hat, and was wearing them along with his cow-print suit.

Haru’s brow furrowed. “Is that really age appropriate?”

“It’s better than what he was into before, trust me,” Tsuna said drily. “And this is I-pin.”

“Hello,” I-pin said carefully. “I-pin is my name.”

“Nice to meet you, I-pin. Your hair clip is cute.” It was also soaked in Takeshi’s Rain Flames and kept her from randomly blowing up. “Are you from China?”

“Yes!”

“My mom is looking after them for a while,” Tsuna explained, leaving out why. “We’re going to the park so she can have a rest.”

“Hahi, that’s so kind of you, Sawada-kun.” Wait, how did she know his name? “Haru will see you later!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a bit of poetic justice that Nono has no choice but to hand over his rank and all his assets to the very same Sky he tried to seal away.


	5. Chapter 5

Before Hayato knew it, the winter break was upon them. For the first time in years he was looking forward to Christmas; for once he had something to celebrate. His gift for Tsuna-sama – a Western-style calligraphy kit – was already chosen and wrapped.

The bell rang for the last class of the last day, and students swarmed out of the classroom. Tsuna-sama barely waited for them to clear out before he followed them. “Hayato-kun, Takeshi-kun, could you stay over at my place tonight?”

“Sure thing, Tsuna-kun.”

“Of course, Decimo!” Their Sky had made the invitation before, on weekends, and Hayato would never turn down a chance to spend more time with him. His wording this time was stronger than usual, though …

“Great! And Hayato, make sure to bring all your cool toys, and your fireworks, too.”

Hayato almost did a double take. Tsuna-sama wanted him to come _armed?_ “Yes, Decimo. I’ll drop by my flat and get them.” Halfway there a memory surfaced; a sketched pie chart surrounded by dates. Oh god – the seal! Of course Tsuna-sama wanted his Guardians at his back for that. From what Tsuna-sama had said about it, the task left him barely conscious and horribly vulnerable. He had gone through this a _dozen times_ without anyone to keep watch for him.

With that in mind, Hayato change out of his school uniform and into his barely-worn suit. It was a stylish number in medium grey, and he’d added a scarlet tie to represent his position. Since it was a Mafia suit, it allowed him full range of motion as well as lots of hidden pockets. Tonight he was carrying his full loadout.

He also brought his overnight bag and the Christmas presents, since he _knew_ that he wouldn’t be letting his Sky out of his sight for a few days.

Nana looked confused when he showed up in formal dress, but dismissed it as a weird foreign thing. Hayato didn’t care as long as Tsuna-sama approved. And he did. Earning his Sky’s smile was still Hayato’s proudest achievement, and the rest of the world could go to hell.

“You look good in a suit, Hayato-kun.” Oh god, he was going to melt into a _puddle._ Tsuna-sama had complimented him!

He managed to sit down in a mostly dignified manner. “What’s your plan for the evening, Decimo?”

“You’ve already figured out that I’m going to break another layer of the seal. Lambo and I-pin are staying over at Haru’s place, and Reborn agreed to watch the perimeter. I told Hibari, so he might be around.” Tsuna-sama ducked his head. “Even if nothing happens, I’ll feel better with both of you here with me.”

Did he expect them to object to that? That he wanted them with him not for some task, but for _themselves?_ Hayato shifted closer to him, and on the other side the baseball fool did the same. “Ahaha, that’s what friends do for each other, isn’t it?”

What a civilian way to put it; Hayato rolled his eyes. “No matter what you ask, Decimo, it is my honor to provide it.”

*** 

Tsuna-sama waited until just before bed time before he began. He had warned them that there wasn’t much to see, and that was technically true; he sat on the floor with his legs crossed and his eyes closed. His Flames, though. They _surged,_ without spreading outward, forming a white-hot marble at his core. In their glow the seal was perceptible, a dark, clinging, _cold_ web that blocked part of their radiance. Once, according to his Sky’s drawings, the web had been a mat so thick that no light or warmth could pass through it. Even with a third of it left, it was revolting. And some asshole had inflicted that thing on a five-year-old.

Tsuna-sama set his Flames against the seal, and it _hurt;_ a dull ache echoed down the Guardian bond, and Tsuna-sama’s breath hitched. Shivers wracked his body, and his skin grew pale. His Flames roiled; slowly, the thinnest tendrils of the seal withered to ash. His jaw clenched and sweat beaded his forehead. It was torture just to _watch,_ and there was no way for Hayato to help him. 

He glanced over at Takeshi and saw the same helpless fury in his eyes. Their Sky was going to have to do this _again._ The seal did not give way easily; mass flowed from the main branches into the tendrils, until the tips burned back to the next fork and the whole monstrosity got thinner. After the longest ten minutes of Hayato’s _life,_ his Sky’s flames flared brighter and purer than before through the enlarged gaps in the seal. Then they guttered out and Tsuna-sama clutched his head with a groan.

Instantly, Hayato was at his side, and Takeshi at the other. With gentle hands they lifted Tsuna-sama onto his bed and tucked the covers over him. He was limp with exhaustion and feverish, yet he still found the strength to smile at them. “I’m sorry for making you watch that.”

“Why the hell are _you_ apologising?” Hayato buried his face in the bedding. He would happily live as Tsuna-sama’s _slave_ ; he barely dared to raise his head in his presence. And that was before he watched him face an ordeal that would break most veteran hitmen. He’d been doing it since he was _five_. He owed Hayato _nothing_.

A shaky arm draped over his neck and hugged gently. God, he was pathetic; _he_ should be the one tending his Sky, not being comforted by him. Not when he couldn’t manage a task as simple as saying his _name_. He shuddered, and took a deep breath. “Tsu – Tsuna-sama …”

Fingers combed through his hair. “Come up here, Hayato.”

He scrambled up and sat with his back to the headboard. Tsuna-sama promptly snuggled into his side and fell asleep.

“You’re blushing,” Takeshi murmured. Hayato spared him a moment’s attention; his smile had vanished entirely, and there was dark determination in his eyes.

“Shut up,” Hayato answered just as quietly. He wasn’t going to sleep tonight, not when his Sky lay helpless in his arms, trusting him with his safety. 

*** 

Takeshi’s bat is warm in his hand, though none of the team would understand the reason why. Since he fell into the Sky – fell into his home – feels at home in his skin, no more a stranger. Should danger threaten, he will not – cannot – _shall not_ let Tsuna come to harm. 

Noise on the windowsill. He raises his bat, does not lower it until he sees that Hibari is standing there. Of course he’s been drawn to the ‘small animal’s’ lair to see how he is faring. He studies Tsuna sleeping, Hayato glaring, hands on knives. Tsuna has them all by the soul; holds their lives, makes them whole. Hibari, too, felt him burning. He steps through the window and turning, closes it again.

“Give me a blanket.”

He’s joining their watch, then. “Did you bring your tonfas?” _Whack._ Ask a silly question …

“Wake me at dawn.” He takes a corner and rests, makes a spare blanket into a nest, but his sleep is light. Somewhere, a Sun too roams the night, so they are four. Too few; they cannot afford to risk their Sky, so long denied his due. To stand at his side, Takeshi must be more. Come morning, he will trade his bat for a sword.

*** 

Unlike his previous sessions of cracking the seal, Tsuna slept like a baby and woke up well after sunrise. He was still curled up against Hayato, and the only reason he woke up at all was that Reborn slammed the door open and got a knife thrown at him. It was Hayato’s movement that roused him, rather than the noise.

He blearily opened his eyes. Reborn was standing in the door, Lambo and I-pin peering around the door frame. “Hey. How was the sleepover?”

“Lucky Lambo had fun!”

“Haru-chan activated her Lightning Flames,” Reborn said drily. Tsuna inwardly face-palmed. Hopefully the self-styled World’s Greatest Hitman hadn’t told her anything; he was sure to give her the wrong idea.

“Are you sick, Tsuna-nii?” asked Lambo, his lip trembling.

“A little. I usually get sick on the winter break,” Tsuna told him. “I’ll be better in a couple of days though, so don’t worry.”

“Ok…” Lambo struck a pose. “Lucky Lambo will make breakfast in bed!” He race off, I-pin in tow. Reborn pulled the throwing knife out of the wall, telegraphing his movements – and Tsuna could tell that now, what was he _doing_ with his life? – and handed it back to Hayato. The Storm looked like he hadn’t slept all night.

“Thank you for staying with me, Hayato.”

“It was my pleasure, Decimo.” So, calling him by name wasn’t going to stick just yet. He turned to his other Elements – and why was Takeshi trying not to laugh? “You too, Takeshi-kun, Hibari-san. Thank you.”

Hibari grunted, and Takeshi laughed and scratched his neck. “Maa, you’re addressing Hayato-kun very casually this morning.”

“Well, now that I’ve slept with him, it feels natural.” Hayato turned bright red. After a moment, so did Tsuna; did he really just say that? His tutor was rubbing off on him.

Reborn ignored their embarrassment and hopped up on the bed. His hands swirled with yellow Flames. “Let me see what this little exercise did to you, Fluffy-Tsuna.”

*** 

At dawn on New Year’s Day, Hayato was sitting on the roof of Tsuna-sama’s house, watching the sunrise with his Sky. Later they were going to meet up with the Yamamotos to visit Namimori Shrine, and Tsuna-sama was recovered enough to get there without clinging to Hayato’s arm for balance. Hayato still intended to stay close; the stairs up to the shrine were no treat.

Right now it was just the two of them. Tsuna-sama had let his Flames out and Hayato basked in them, watching his Sky run through, for him, a basic control exercise. All his life Hayato had heard stories about Harmony; that feeling of security, of having nothing to prove, of a stable center for one’s life. He had never even dreamed that he would get to experience it. Skies were _rare,_ and the bond couldn’t be forced – people tried, that was how the Mafia was, but it never _worked_. 

And here was Hayato, bastard and runaway, Guardian to a Sky. And not just any Sky; Tsuna-sama, skittish and fluffy and with a resolve that could crumble mountains. His Flame was as pure as the finest of gems, and he was _writing_ with it. Fiery threads formed the kanji for _New Year_ , then faded and were replaced stroke by stroke with the characters _Hidden Sky._

“It’s weird,” he said. “This time last year, I was worried that I’d never be able to make friends. And now I have all of these amazing people looking up to me. And you, and Takeshi, and Hibari. That’s worth putting up with the Mafia for.” 

Such a _Sky_ thing to say, as if the entire underworld was a minor inconvenience, to be endured for his people. Hayato snorted. “You know that I’m yours to command, Decimo. I will obey you in all things.”

“Don’t promise that, Hayato.” His heart plummeted, only to soar again when Tsuna-sama continued, “Because you’re smarter than me, and you might need to stop me from doing something stupid.”

Hayato gulped. That was a _titanic_ responsibility that his Sky had just handed to him. And at the same time, an utterly simple one. “I’ll be right beside you, Decimo, to catch you when you fall.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First arc, complete! There is more to come; I have most of the next part already written, and I'll start posting it in a month or so as the next story in the series. Stay tuned!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Shape of a Soul](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18374675) by [Eon_Quill (Era_Penn)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Era_Penn/pseuds/Eon_Quill)




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